


Ad Astra

by colberry



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Aoi is pining, M/M, Possibly Requited Love, Rock Stars, Senpai Notices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colberry/pseuds/colberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Aoi runs and Uruha notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ad Astra

_ _

_Look at me._  
  
Shards of light in his eyes, fiberglass against his navel and bleeding vessels in his chest, Aoi starts running.  It's a long runway -- flashes of smiles, tears and screams streak past him in all different hues.  Red, blue, yellow, red, red.  It's a blear, a blur that sticks against his heart and chokes him.  But he's running.  Fingertips are pushing into copper strings so tight, he knows crimson will stain them for months, and his pick is lost somewhere in the crowd.  
  
But Aoi can see him -- the blur of yellow and white that makes the stage shine so goddamn _bright_ \-- and he's closer with each step, leap and bound.  The tunic he threw on in a last-second rush backstage is making his strides shorter and it feels like  the hourglass is lodged in his throat.  Because if he doesn't make it in time -- those grains lost forever in his bones -- he'll miss _it_.  
  
And Aoi's not sure what _it_ is --   
  
perhaps the whisper of a knowing smile  
  
of recognition  
  
of _love-passion-love-forever_  
  
of what he has yearned for with his entire being; ever since that first shared night in the hotel room when Aoi listened to him confess how he hates olives, how the other listened earnestly to the first sloppily put-together chords of Aoi's new song -- what would become _Cassis_ \-- and said, _"That's beautiful."_  
  
when he smiled and _laughed_ and everything became so vivid and _right here_ \--  
  
\-- but he's sure it's there.  Waiting.  About to be everlastingly _gone_ if he doesn't hurry the fuck up.  
  
The chords are banging against his chest.  He knows that, come morning, the bruises will snake along his ribs, but Aoi doesn't care -- he can see him clearly now.  Just hairsbreadths away.  Just a couple more feet, a couple more breaths, more sighs, gasps...  
  
And he runs, throws his head back and closes his eyes -- baring his throat and letting the lights take him.  He wants to feel ethereal, wants to _be perfect_ for him.  _He wants him to look_.    
  
Because, really, that's what Aoi has wanted all along with every backbend, hip sway and pout.  
  
With every playful grin, purchased coffee and offered cigarette.  
  
With each melody written and each note conceived.  _Just look at me._  
  
 _He just wants a glance._  
  
His heart is a nova and it's going to burst -- adrenaline licking his ribcage and sweat smearing his makeup -- and suddenly, as he opens his eyes, it feels so _real_.  And it's so _loud_.  Screams and hollers and whistles and singing.  Aoi's fingers still find the notes despite the catch in his breath -- because he'll always have room in his heart for both music and _him_.  
  
He has five more seconds and stars begin to explode in his eyes.  Four.  Three.  Two --   
  
The smile feels too wide on his lips, the ragged whisper escaping too easily from his throat:  
  
 _One.  
  
"Kouyou -- "_  
  
And for that split moment, that pocketful of precious time held in suspension -- when the crowd is on their knees, the _dream_ is in their hands and they're about to collide --   
  
Uruha _looks_.


End file.
